


Helluva receptionist

by Genna-Red (Genna_Bella)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels, Blues are angels, Crack, Demons, Drabble, Gen, Guardian Angels, Heaven, Hell, Locus is just tired of their shit, Not Beta Read, Priests, Reds are demons, Religion, Sins, Tucker's like the worst angel, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genna_Bella/pseuds/Genna-Red
Summary: Out of all the jobs Locus wanted to get as a kid, 'receptionist' wasn't very high on the list.After his death however, he's stuck behind the desk of Valhalla Inc. A recovery business that sends angels and demons to Earth to enact the last wishes of wayward souls.A good idea, yes. But as Locus would soon learn, all the angels and demons working for the company are all disgustingly incompetent at what they do.[inspired by Helluva Boss]
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Helluva receptionist

**Author's Note:**

> I've marked this story as having 1/1 chapters. I wrote this on a whim and don't expect to write more although I could be wrong.  
> I didn't have anyone read this because frankly it's just a piece of creative writing for an idea I had in my head.

The unmistakable clack of heels announces a familiar presence as the door swings open violently, revealing two figures, one of whom struts into the drab, red office lobby with confidence while the other walks slowly behind.

“All I’m saying is that if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten the information you needed out of him.” The effeminate yet distinctly masculine voice continues an argument from before.

“Yes, Donut. But there were better ways of doing that than threatening the lives of his daughter and wife.” His companion stresses back, his bleach-blonde hair contrasting against the look of his simple black priest robes. 

“No harm no foul, Wash!” The leather-clad incubus huffs, tucking similarly toned hair behind his ear, turning to face the front desk sporting a very tired-looking receptionist.

“They were in the room when you threatened them!” The priest tugs Donut’s vest so his focus remains on him, glancing at the receptionist over the taller man’s shoulder occasionally.

“I take it you two completed your task?” The receptionist deadpans, his deep voice holding a dark monotone fitting for dark skin and dark green horns, with eyes blacked out by a shadowy aura surrounding him.

“Barely.” Washington groans, rubbing his temple with a deep and tired sigh, “You can work out the details with Donut, I’m going to go think.”

The priest waves off the two other men present in the room, entering through an interior door painted blue with a few Christian religious symbols hanging from the door frame. Graffiti was also present on the door, spilling over to the connecting wall. Black sharpie clearly reading ‘Suck it, angels!’. 

“Don’t worry newbie, he’s always like that.” Donut struts over to the receptionist’s desk, the large demon sitting there keeping a neutral stare as the incubus perches himself on the corner. “Even imbued humans like him have a hard time with us demons.”

The shadow-demon meet’s Donut’s smirking face, his own expression showing no hints he was prepared to talk to further along the conversation.

“Sorry, what was your name again?” He asks, pointing a pink painted fingernail at the human-shaped mass of shadows quizzically.

“Locus.” The receptionist sighs, looking over to the red door on his right as it opens to reveal a tall ginger man, antennae falling over his red irises as he gestures to Donut to come inside, the incubus doing so with no protest.

Locus mentally thanks the higher-ups and begins to go back to his spreadsheet, scanning the numbers to pick up where he left off again.

“Sarge wants you too, Locus.” The ginger addresses the shadow-demon who reluctantly stands from behind his desk. Locus looks up to the clock, he has one more hour left of his shift, one more hour of dealing with the company’s bull-honkey before he’s free to go home.

Should be easy enough.

\-------

“They’re conniving! Plotting against us in more ways than simple rivalry!” The grey-haired man yells, the whites of his eyes red against black irises, a common factor in many wrath-demons.

The agents of hell seated at the table stare at him in silence, the faint humming of the cheap, soft red fluorescent light providing the feeling of a rundown hostel room if nothing else. The table in the center of the room with a whiteboard behind it being the only things making the room feel official in any capacity.

Looking at the whiteboard closer Locus notices 75% of its surface is covered in dicks of various length, girth and drawing ability. All presumably having been created with the same permanent marker used to graffiti the blue door in the main hall.

“We are still talking about the angels, right?” A darker skinned man interjects, stuffing another cookie into his mouth as he scans the room. “Like, the ones from heaven that are meant to fucking hate us?”

“Shut up, Grif! No one asked you!” The old man snaps, returning to his monologue. “They’re up to something! They complain about missions more and more! They’re trying to sabotage us!”

Maybe because they’re forced to work with you? Locus thinks to himself. And the last time you specifically were out on a mission, you got arrested and the red-haired girl had to bail you out using her own money?

“We need to make ourselves more intimidating!” The old man slams a fist on the table, staring at the others in the room. “Simmons! How can you be more intimidating?”

The ginger man fiddles with his antennae, thinking of an answer. “I can always start flying? That usually scares the shit out of humans.”

“Or you could corrupt their game save files.” Grif offers.

“I’m trying to scare people, Grif, not drive them to suicide.” Simmons rolls his eyes in response.

He’d only been there a few weeks, maybe a month, but already Locus could tell the humans were uncomfortable around the demons and the angels were just plain tired of dealing with their shit. 

“God dammit Simmons!” The man yells, “I’m after some real ideas! None of this sneaking around slimy bull-shit! That’s the business of them dirty angels!”

Well if that wasn’t the most ironic thing Locus has heard all day he doesn’t know what is.

“Dirty angels? Do you even hear yourself, sir?” Grif scoffs, grabbing another cookie from the table’s center.

Locus’d seen enough just by the demons’ displays whilst walking through the front door to know exactly why the angels wanted to steer clear of them at all costs. Their damn arguments carry over into the halls as they enter from Earth, the halls he wished were silent for longer every time.

It had started being a problem when the ginger cockroach demon and the hawaiian native rat had entered the room arguing on his first day. Normal for those two as he would later find out, but listening to their incompetence day in, day out was easily one of the hardest things about Locus’ job.

“I’m hearing some unhappy words, Sarge.” A new face pops into the room, the same red eyes with black irises signifying a wrath-demon. Locus recognised the dark skin and curly brown hair as belonging to the HR representative, DuFresne. A wrath-demon with the most misleading smile Locus had ever seen. “Remember, nothing good can come from a hostile workplace!”

“I dunno about that.” Donut raises an eyebrow, “hate sex is pretty neat.”

“Dude, you used to be just innuendos, what happened to you?” Grif furrows his brows.

“Puberty.” The demon responds, stretching his wings before letting them flutter back down to fold over his back.

Locus laments silently, why wasn’t he hanging out with the angels instead of this trainwreck? The answer to his rhetorical was obvious, of course, but Locus seriously considered braving the blessed charms hung outside the blue door, the burning of his soul would probably be less painful than being with these losers.

\----------

“I’m praying for them, I really am! I’m giving them choices, I’m helping them out!” Washington paces back and forth through drabbles of frustration.

“They’re demons, it’s like, their whole ‘shtick’.” Church rolls his eyes at the priest, going back to the television displaying some sitcom from earth.

“Yeah, Wash. I get you’re used to redeeming people, but these guys are a little beyond that.” The dark skinned angel enters the room from the kitchen, tossing Washington an apple with he narrowly catches.

“Tucker’s right, they had their chance and they queered it, open and shut.” Church backs him up.

“I mean, not really.” Tucker reiterates, “Some of these guys died, sure, but the powerful ones were probably born in hell, y’know?”

“Then all the more reason for them to be welcomed into God’s grace!” Washington argues.

“Yada yada.” Tucker brushes him off, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to Church, his aqua-tinted wings fluttering to a still position on his back over equally tinted white robes. “Stop stressing, it isn’t your job.” 

“Whose job is it, then?” Washington retorts.

“Dad’s, Michael’s.” Church answers instead. “Pretty much anyone who isn’t us.”

“How have you guys not fallen yet?” Washington mutters into his hands.

“‘Coz Lucifer sucks!” Tucker leaps out of his seat next to Church. “You can only fall if you’re willing to fall! And I ain’t!”

“There’s a difference between ‘being a good guy’ and ‘doing good things’.” Washington sits down on a wooden chair tucked into a table with miscellaneous paperwork scattered around it. “Why can’t you be more like Caboose?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Church laughs. “The only reason Caboose is so good at his job is because he’s the most innocent guy I’ve met!”

“Yeah, ever heard of the term ‘ignorance is bliss’, Wash?” Tucker ribs, “Because I’m pretty sure Caboose thinks Earth is just heaven with less white.”

“He’s with Carolina at the moment, he should be fine.” Washington deviates.

“Wait Caboose is on Earth?” Church asks surprised.

“Yeah? Where the heck did you think he was?” Tucker waits for the black-haired man to respond.

“Like, in the toilet or something?” Church furrows his brows, “C’mon guys, we all remember the last time Caboose got an assignment.”

Tucker cringes, recalling the scene he made in McDonald’s after he found out the meat was made from animals, crying about why Dad would allow his sons and daughters to kill the innocent cows. It started off quiet, but after he started yelling about reincarnation and walking up to random people telling them to repent before their souls were dragged to hell to replace the poor chickens.

Yeah, not a fun day for anyone.

“He’s still… new…” Washington defends the absent angel. “He doesn’t really grasp the concept that humans are naturally… not, the best.”

“Nice save.” Church deadpans. “Listen, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re totally understaffed here. Three angels and two humans aren’t really gonna cut it when they’re bringing in demons for the neutral jobs.”

“Locus keeps to himself and DuFresne… is DuFresne.” Washington looks out the open blue door to Locus’ empty seat. Maybe he went to lunch.

“Locus could replace half the demons we got hired, he’s terrifying.” Tucker laughs.

“My point is: we need more than three angels here.” Church sighs, “Because Tucker’s on the verge of falling, Caboose is bordering on completely useless and I’m a guardian, I hang out on someone’s shoulder not do regular angel things.”

“You have me and Carolina.” Washington bites his lip.

“Uh huh, because an imbued school-teacher is real helpful.” Tucker sighs.

“She is! She’s basically just a human that can see us, what isn’t helpful about that?” Washington argues.

“She has a real job on Earth, she’s only around for a few hours a day and when she is she just complains about how much we suck.” Church points out.

Washington hangs his head in defeat, realising it was unlikely the angels were going to listen to anything else he had to say. “Speaking of Earth, I just remembered I have a sermon to write.”

As the priest leaves the room, closing the door behind him and leaving the premesis, the two angels look on in confusion.

“Yo what’s a sermon?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Simmons being a cockroach demon comes from the garau totem of the same animal, they deal with technology and can listen into cyberspace. Find more about it here: https://whitewolf.fandom.com/wiki/Cockroach


End file.
